


Symbiosis

by Uhei



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: All-Japan National Figure Skating Championships, Awkward Conversations, Being Yakov is Suffering, Canon Compliant, Follows the dates of real-life events, M/M, Minami knows just what to do for Yuuri, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Russian National Figure Skating Championships, Semi-established relationship, Set two weeks after ep12, Victor POV, Viktor teases to hide his embarassment, victor spelt viktor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:54:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Uhei/pseuds/Uhei
Summary: Yuuri insists on being there for Victor's first performances when he returns to the ice for Nationals. The problem is, it ends less than a day before Yuuri's own Nationals in Japan, but Yuuri is being strangely stubborn. Being a coach and skating competitively at the same time is giving Victor more than his fair share of troubles, but they agreed that they would be there for each other- or at least, that's what Yuuri thinks the agreement is.Somehow, between rushed connecting flights and disrespecting competition policies, Victor relents. He is upset about having to leave Yuuri alone for his competition, knowing the other's slight dependence on him.But perhaps Yuuri's not the dependent one of the two.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Viktor's birthday on 25/12 but I gave up OTL. It's surprisingly hard to get back into writing not having written for a year.

“Viktor, it’s alright.” Yuuri shushes him for what must be the thirteenth time that day (it’s the thirteenth time he’s participating in the Russian Nationals, he doesn’t need someone to hold his hand)- but Yuuri, on the other hand…

“I’ve already told you, I’ll board the flight to Moscow immediately after your Free Program, then I’ll sleep on the 9 hour flight to Tokyo. You can track my progress if you’re going to fret so much, it’s JAL 513.” Perhaps Yuuri’s stubborn streak appears whenever he’s staying in an international hotel, he ponders as they take the lift to the lobby. “I’ll make it in ample time to take the bullet train to Nagano for the Nationals.”

“But what if you get jet-lagged? There won’t be enough time for emergency naps, you know.” He grumbles, fussing through his fringe again.

“But what if I retired,” Yuuri mutters, imitating his tone. “We’d agreed to take on some measure of risks since we’re doing this together.” The yellow lights paint gold flecks on his glasses, then he tilts his head and the reflected glare whites out whatever his eyes must look like at the moment. “Besides, I’d just get more anxious staying in Japan alone anyway.”

Viktor feels his heart dive as the elevator makes its descent.

“Yuuri~” He coos, throwing his arms around the other as the man turns a shade of red to rival Viktor’s jacket.

The doors open then, and Viktor catches sight of a familiar face by a sofa near the reception desk.

“…You guys are being way too dramatic.” He complains. “Since when did both of you decide to play my keepers, Chris?”

The man sidles up to them, throwing an arm around Yuuri’s shoulder and leans toward Viktor. “Maybe I just got too curious about how the living legend managed to choreograph and prepare two routines in three weeks...” The Swiss man chuckles. “This is a whole level of insanity even for you, Viktor.”

Yuuri visibly brightens. “It’s amazing. I wonder if I’ll even be able to catch up at Worlds.”

At Worlds. Not ‘If’ he reaches Worlds. The growth in Yuuri’s confidence is a marvel.

* * *

 

_Storge_ , the only natural continuation to the series of short programs he had composed for the two Yuri’s. Its inspiration is not nearly as obvious as that of _Eros_ and _Agape_ , and has warmer, chipper plucked cello notes in place of the orchestral keys of the organ in _Agape_ or the passionate flamenco of the guitar melody in _Eros_. Victor’s composing team really pulled through for him this time, when he’d facetimed Venchi the man looked like he’d burned several all-nighters.

Viktor wonders how the world will interpret his inspiration for this routine. He has never been direct about it, but as he had muttered “Life and love” over and again while circling the rink, Yurio shot him a disgusted look. He smiles thinking of the riled up teenager who was endlessly aggrieved by the one point difference in their short program scores.

Yuuri had clapped and cheered from the barrier, it had taken all of Viktor’s charm and a lot of persuading (read: one-sided demands while smiling as if the man would accept it any day) to get Yakov to officiate Yuuri’s presence in the coach-and-skaters-only area. Press be damned, he was going to have Yuuri sit with him in the Kiss and Cry. To avoid having the press swarm Yuuri with questions he had pre-emptively decided that they should not wear their rings at the Russian Nationals.

_Storge_. Affection for family; empathy for others; love for one’s country and home. It could be any of these.

* * *

 

_“Yuuri, remember to wear more layers when you go over!” Hiroko calls to Yuuri, whose response echoes from the front yard. She turns back to Viktor, smile soft. “Vicchan, take care of our Yuuri, all right? He gets homesick easily.” Viktor huffs a short laugh, tying his shoelaces. “I understand that, I’ll really miss this place too.”_

_“Take care of yourself too. Come back soon.” She keeps her words simple, Viktor only knows a few words of conversational Japanese even after multiple nights poring over language books, but he can feel the warmth in them all the same. He smiles at the ground as he thanks her. He was always welcome here. They would be waiting for his return._

* * *

 

Of course the short program had gone on perfectly. How could it not, when his home was right in front of him?

It was the morning of the free skate, and his phone was blowing up with notifications he hadn’t yet been bothered to check. Woops, maybe he should’ve waited for the interviews to end before he ran to find Yuuri yesterday, and in Yakov’s words, ‘caused a scene’. The other had been so determined to travel to Sochi to watch him that Viktor couldn’t begrudge his decision. Even though it was totally reckless and his inner coach (he had one, okay!) knew the right thing would’ve been to refuse so Yuuri wouldn’t tire himself out before his competition.

Yuuri was acting strange today, though. He was exchanging glances with Chris ever since they left the hotel lobby, which Viktor is sure was never a thing between the two. He’d lost track of the conversation since Yuuri started gushing about the elements in his short yesterday. Oh well, he’ll get it out of him later.

Georgi’s free program no longer holds the same yearning for Anya, thank goodness. Well, not good for his presentation score, since he’s obviously too jubilant for his solemn theme, but good for him. He saw Georgi waving excitedly to a girl wearing a tan scarf in the stands after the short program yesterday, so Victor doesn’t even have to guess what brought about such a change.

Viktor feels Yuuri’s curious gaze even as he starts to run through the motions of his free program.  He is the last to skate having come in first for the short, so he’s a little comforted by the fact that Yuuri wants to stay with him instead of watching Yurio skate, settling for running out and shouting, “Yuri, davai!” before dashing back in. Yura is in the right frame of my mind today thanks to Yakov having made preparations for his grandfather to come watch this event. He could really give Viktor a run for his money today. But unlike Yurio’s free skate, his program today isn’t focused on winning through technical elements. No, it’s about showing the world how this year has changed him.

It’s a love letter, he thinks, stretching his quadriceps in preparation for the Biellman later. Yuuri hasn’t seen his free skate in totality, only the first thirty seconds or so and then occasionally part of the choreographed sequence. He wants it to be a surprise, and then Viktor can properly savour his reaction as the rest of the Russia does. From Russia, with love.

They haven’t really talked much about his comeback since they’d departed from Barcelona, but perhaps Yuuri has been wanting to. He has had this particular look in his eyes, slightly reminiscent of when he’d first told the other he was going back to competitions, but the look always shuttered away when he saw how tired Viktor was after answering a thousand questions about his comeback with the press. Sometimes he wonders why they feel the need to press him for details on so many separate occasions even in Barcelona. It wasn’t like they’d find many deviations in his answers even if they cross-compared interview scripts. Sometimes he’s tempted to complain to Yuuri, _I’m old and creaky, why would you make me do this_.

But talks of his permanent retirement never go over well with him, so Viktor will express in the only other way he knows how. The crowds go wild at Yurio’s score, so he figures it must be good. Perhaps Yura has already surpassed him in popularity, being the youngest to win in the senior division of the Grand Prix Finals. But he can feel Yuuri’s unquestionable faith, a pillar as he gives him a resolute smile.

* * *

 

_He’d felt himself drifting off shortly after toweling his hair. There was a dip in the bed, hands unfurling his curled legs and massaging out the tension in his calves like he’d usually done after practice with Yuuri. There’d been slight bruises near his ankle from where he’d landed too hard on the quad lutz, and he feels fingers tenderly working around their edges before the room darkened._

* * *

 

The cheers don’t die even as he steps onto the ice and Yuuri stands with his hands braced on the barrier. He hears his name called in hundreds of variations, but they fade as he glides into his starting pose and the familiar headspace he’s known for 20 years. There is nothing else in the room but the music, strings crooning a melody into his bones, his outstretched arms and to the tips of his fingers. He hopes it will do justice.

It starts off with a  quad toe-triple toe combination, and after he lands it he slides his free leg lower till his fingers drift over the surface of the ice.

_La mia serenata cantero per te_

A circle with a spread eagle, then assumes the arabesque position before he kicks into a triple axel. And then, the choreographic sequence, which draws what he thinks is a small gasp from Yuuri when he glides close. Do you realize it now, Yuuri?

_Quanto ti amo tu non lo sai_

 He does a quad lutz-triple flip combination, admittedly an upgrade from what the 3L-2F combination the other had done in his first qualifier for the Grand Prix two years ago.

_Sempre io sarò_

He jumps into a flying sit spin, then a combination spin with a leg change he is sure the other will recognize just as the music swells.

Quad salchow, as a nod to his student’s growth. Triple flip, which he will upgrade to a quad later at the European championships.

* * *

 

_Yuuri’s lone figure flies across the studio’s worn wooden floorboards with practiced ease in a grand_ _Jeté. He shifts position, then promptly grabs the bar as he lurches over, clutching his chest in a mock heart attack. “Oh my god,” he gasps breathlessly, “Viktor, why didn’t you say something?! I only saw you in the mirror and I thought-”_

_“I was going to,” he admits. “But I was watching you and then…”_

_But the words had left his mind before it could reach his mouth._

* * *

 

He leaps across the ice, slowing down as he made two crescent figures in the ice with his hands poised, and then gains enough momentum to launch into a triple axel-triple loop combination.

That’s what this mockery of a half-season comeback is anyway. Yurio growled at him during the gala, that if he dared slack off he’d kick his “graying ass off the ice” himself, and he’d chuckled good-naturedly. He’d never dare anyway, he was giving it his all.

Which is why he hopes Yuuri can tell what this program is about. _All for the love of you. Not for me, not any longer._

_Io t’amo sai tu mi ami_

_Già_

He swings up into the final combination spin, swivels into a camel before he curls his leg up to catch it in a Biellmann. Yuuri hasn’t done it since he won the gold at the NHK trophy 2 years ago, but he did do it for almost every other international competition.

The stadium erupts into cheers, but Viktor’s heart beats much too hard in his ears, he hopes his exhaustion won’t be too well captured by the cameras. He waves to the people who had been clamoring for his comeback, the multitude of fans he’s only to come to understand through Yuuri.

Speaking of which, he turns find his darling with his hands clasped together in front of his mouth. He looks stunned and moved to…are those tears?

As Viktor skates over to the entry point where Yuuri is waiting for him, his arms open in a deliberate request, a conflicted expression pinches that dear face, one that he doesn’t know the identity of, and then Yuuri-

-breaks away and disappears behind the curtain. Wait, what?

The shock must register on his face, because the next thing he knows he’s being beckoned off the ice by Yakov who’s in a good enough mood to leave Yura and come for him.

His eyes never leave the curtain. _What did he do? Was Yuuri upset that he referenced all his previous performances to create this routine? Did he think Viktor was copping out on originality?_

“Vitya,” Yakov grumbles, forcing him out of his thoughts. “At least act a bit interested in your scores.” He does look up as the score for his free program is announced. Huh, that’s the highest presentation score they’ve given him so far. See, they can see the beauty in Yuuri too.

His score places him just 0.8 points above Yura, and the spectators go wild. A dozen camera flashes seem to go off at once. Great, he has to fight through more interviews before he can go find Yuuri.

* * *

 

_“Is it true that you only produced those programs two weeks ago?”_

_“Yuri Plisetsky said he would beat you this season. What do you think about that?”_ The words just roll over and drown him. Ugh, if there’s anything he hates most about skating competitively, it’s that he never gets to pick when he wants to be interviewed. If at all.

Viktor wishes sometimes that he could have the same aura as that Korean skater who competed against Yuuri at the Rostelecom. But then, it would be too different. And Yuuri himself admitted he finds the other unapproachable. Even if he did glomp the other man immediately after the free skate, Yura recalled to him with horror at the gala.

He leaves the press with more footage of his smile and promises to refine the program by the European championships, and then he’s hurrying off into the holding area. He was steeling himself for all the possible scenarios he could imagine- Yuuri in tears, Yuuri angry or suddenly deciding that Viktor should stop coaching him so he could skate better-

“SURPRISE!” Voices shout in unison as a party popper bursts in his face.

Viktor startles backwards, but there is Yuuri, beaming at him with his face lit by the warm glow of candles on the cake he’s holding out, and Chris is suddenly standing next to him, pushing him forward. “Happy birthday” is being sung in accented English and some of his competitors and reporters are clapping along. Was everyone in on this?

“Look at that shocked face.” Chris teases, “Did you forget your birthday?”

“Well, yes.” He admits. That has been the last thing on his mind today, too overwhelmed with everything else. He’s so relieved, he can’t help the grin that overtakes his face then. “Thanks for planning this everyone! You got me!”

“But first, picture, picture!” He says, carelessly flinging an arm around Yuuri- _“Viktor! The cake!” the dear man squawks-_ and Chris inserts himself into the photo while Yuri can be seen in the unoccupied corner flipping him off. While his best friend, Yura, and oh hey, Yakov you’re here too come on- oblige him a few selfies, Yuuri laughs radiantly. Viktor finds himself right behind the other without even a thought.

He leans in over Yuuri’s shoulder, and blows out the candles, and it was _definitely_ not deliberate that his breath was right next to Yuuri’s ear. Said owner of ear flinched and clapped his hand over his ear, flushing from the neck up.

“You deserve that, Yuuri,” he mock-whines, “You scared me by running away from my hug.”

And then Yuuri, with his newfound sass after having been left to train on his own in a public rink in St. Petersburg for two weeks leading up to this day, simply deadpans, “Right. I should have opened my arms and waited for you to leap at me before turning away like you did at Regionals.”

A humdrum was starting up in the rink for the Ice dance Free segment, so it was probably alright for them to stay in here a while. “So careless with my heart, truly the playboy.” He simpers, and Chris sniggers. Yura is eyeing the cake none too subtly, so they begin cutting and handing it out.

“Who would want some shitty cake the Katsudon picked out, he probably doesn’t know the proper stores like Karavevykh.” Yurio says as he accepts a slice.

“Sure, Yurio. Hey, Georgi! Want some cake?” His rinkmate had been looking down since he got pushed to 3rd from 2nd last year in the rankings, but cheers up at the offer.

“Victor! You remembered my birthday? I’ll have some, thank you!” The white chiffon of that awful free skate costume ruffles disturbingly under the red-and-white jacket as he hurries over.

“Yup! Take pictures with you tomorrow when we go watch Mila.” Well, he remembered it was sometime this week at least. There was still enough time today to find a gift.

Later that day, the airport saw Viktor fussing over Yuuri at the departure gates. “Yuuri, are you sure you’ve brought both your costumes? You have Makkachin (tissue box) with you, right?”

“Yes, yes.” Yuuri sighs, and leans in for one final hug. “I’ll do my best. Thank you for letting me watch that performance.”

“All for you, my dear student.”

“Don’t tell me my birthday was the real reason you stayed in Sochi and spread yourself so thin.”

Yuuri fidgets. “It was one of the reasons. I really felt like I needed it! To watch you skate first, I mean.”

At Viktor’s questioning look, the other attempted to clarify.

“I just needed to know that you were going to compete.” Viktor drags out a sigh.

“Yuuuuuriii. Don’t you trust my promises? Don’t give me that look I still choreographed Yurio’s short routine after all. You’re going to prioritise your own skating from now on, you hear?” Viktor grabbed onto his shoulders to make sure Yuuri couldn’t turn away from his intense gaze.

“I will, I will, I will!” He nods fervently, completely flustered.

Honestly, what was he going to do with this rebellious student.

“Viktor?” At the change in tone, Viktor looks up at Yuuri again, but he has his face trained toward the ground, an earnest blush colouring most of it. “Your free program. It is the- it was very moving.” His voice carries over like steam, barely perceptible but warming Viktor all over.

Today, though, he feels a little spoiled. It’s not that he’s bothered by the fact that they got the jump on him, but…

“Hm? And why is that?” He teases, drawing closer.

Yuuri doesn’t even make eye contact, he just squirms and swivels around. “Gotta catch that flight! I’m off now!” He runs off with his luggage in tow, waving backwards.

It is a while after Yuuri’s figure disappears into the immigration area that Viktor realizes he’s still standing there.

He’d asked Yuuri a few times- okay, several- if he was really sure, absolutely certain he didn’t want Viktor to follow him to the All-Japan. Yuuri had pointed out the obvious, that the medal presentation ceremony was the day after tomorrow, and it would rub off wrong on more than just the skating officials if the podium was missing its gold medallist. Bad enough that Viktor had no exhibition piece to grace the gala with.

Viktor honestly thought he would be able to get away with it. But he supposed that he should at least try not to aggravate Yakov before he’d request (tell him) that Yuuri move to their home rink in St. Petersburg.

* * *

 

Viktor was able to pull himself away from his team the other day because he needed to send Yuuri off, but this morning Yurio just glared at him and told him he’d “better not fucking disappear before we finish watching Mila’s performance, if-I’m-stuck-here-you-are-too-dammit”, so Viktor would be unable to watch Yuuri’s short program on the livestream. He’d checked his phone restlessly, relying on Yuuri’s fanclub twitter to give him updates.

Wow, Yuuri had drawn first again. That’s some incredible luck, considering there were at least 30 competitors there.

His heart can’t help but pound as he refreshes over and over again, ignoring Yurio’s disgusted face. Minako had told him that Yuuri was particularly affected by his 11th placing at the Nationals last year, and Viktor had known now from first-hand experience that Yuuri tended to fret about competitions based on his previous performance. Or if the fact that he wasn’t there to get him into the mood for the Eros routine would throw his persona out of funk.

Oh, someone uploaded a picture of Yuuri licking his lips, with several exclamation marks and blushing emoticons as a caption. His hair was slicked back in the way that showed off his reddish-brown eyes, that would seduce everyone in the room with that sultry expression. Good. Although, that little gelled lock that he hadn’t completely moved to the side and rested on his right temple bothered Viktor. Ah, he really should have been there to do it for his student.

A full minute later, someone uploaded a gif of Yuuri’s flawless quad salchow- triple toe loop combination. And then, a quad toe loop-triple lutz combination near the very end, which they swapped out the quad flip for after Yuuri reluctantly agreed that it fit the flow of the performance better. And then Viktor saw something in the corner of the gif, on the opposite side of the rink from where Yuuri was executing his jump combination. Was that-? No, who would do that?

It took several more minutes before Yuuri’s tags led him to a post completely written in kanji, although he recognized the simple letters for his own name, with two photos of Yuuri attached. Thankfully, someone commented with an English translation to explain what was going on in the pictures. Yuuri, flushed from the exertion of his performance but grinning that sweet sheepish smile, seemingly fresh off the ice was carrying off the Makkachin tissue case in one arm with the other looped around a cardboard standee of Viktor, ‘ _coach-edition’_ as it had been dubbed in his merchandise online store. The cardboard version of himself seemed utterly clueless to the events going around him and his eyes were focused as if watching Yuuri’s performance, a gloved finger on his two-dimensional lips.

That is definitely not the expression he would have if he was being hoisted around by Yuuri like this.

The next picture made Viktor clutch at his chest, although he was not so sure if it was prompted by the relief that Yuuri had again scored a personal best for this season of 112.54, or that Yuuri had plopped the cardboard standee in the seat to the right of Yuuri in the Kiss-and-Cry. Perhaps a bit of both. Yuuri looked so happy and light in that photo, as though a huge weight had been rolled off his shoulders and he knew that Yuuri had nerves today but managed to overcome them. The translated text read, “Yuuri-kun was surprised this afternoon by Kenjiro-kun with a cardboard cut-out Viktor when Kenjiro-kun heard that his coach was unable to attend Nationals today. Yuuri-kun thanked him and said he would be able to perform his best today. The both of them are seriously angels wwww (lol)”

Viktor felt his face warm. “What the hell is wrong with your face, old man?” Yurio grit at him, and Viktor quickly fought to hide his phone’s screen from the boy. It was bad enough that Yurio was still seething from placing 2nd to him, he would never let Viktor live it down if he found out what was making him blush so furiously.

Yuuri would be the death of him.

“Oi, it’s the witch’s turn.” Viktor switched off his phone and tried to focus on Mila’s performance as she waved to them in the stands and took to centre ice.

* * *

 

“Ah.” Yuuri’s face popped into view as the video chat connected. “Viktor, is it connected?” His hair is still dripping into the towel carelessly bundled around it,

so he must have just come out from the shower. The cardboard Viktor is conspicuously absent from the frame, although he can’t make out much from the room.

“Hey, Yuuri~ That was a great performance, love. I knew you could do it.” He’ll wait until after the entire competition to go through the flaws with Yuuri, he doesn’t want to jeopardize his precious skater’s state of mind when he isn’t around in person to soothe him.

Yuuri blushes, obviously pleased.

“You watched the livestream?”

“No, I couldn’t because Yurio dragged me to watch the rest of our team, so I watched it just now. Although I saw the live updates from Twitter.” He pauses to let it sink in, but just in case-

“I’ll have to thank…Minami Kenjirou, was it? When I’m in Japan after tomorrow.” He pretends not to note Yuuri’s rising embarrassment, watching on amusedly as the man sinks his head into his hand.

“Were you facing the standee when you did the lip-lick for your short? You’re not going to replace me, are you?” He teases with a sing-song lilt.

“Viktoooorrrr.” Yuuri groans, compacting himself even further into the blankets yet still holding onto his phone. So adorable, his little bundle of shame.

“Anyway,” he waggles his finger. “Get some rest. Don’t think too much about the free skate. I’ll fly over in time for the exhibition skate, okay?”

Yuuri nods, still a little red, but looking at ease in his post-shower daze.

“You too. You’re going to do a quad battle with Georgi tomorrow, aren’t you?”

“Yup, gotta give something back to the fans I suppose.” It all works out well anyway, since Yura will be the only one in the Men’s singles category performing an exhibition piece to that thrashy rock noise.

“Good night, Viktor.”

“Good night.”

He waited a few moments, the both of them simply staring at each other, before Yuuri shook his head with an exasperated smile and swiped to end the chat.

* * *

 

He finds himself staring at the ceiling for a long while after he has switched off the lights, alone with too big a bed and too many thoughts. He should have wished Yuuri luck for his free skate, right? He reaches for his phone, then stops himself. No, it may be early in the evening for him but it was very late in Japan. Yuuri needs his sleep. Viktor can wait until tomorrow morning to message him.

He hugs a pillow tightly, but it is not as warm as Makkachin or Yuuri. His beloved girl would need a week more before she was cleared to make the journey to St. Petersburg. He should also probably get some sleep.

_“Congratulations, Viktor!”_ Yuuri’s visage, smiling at him after he saw the official placings echoed in his mind, his eyes crinkling in delight behind his glasses.

It was going to be a long night. Viktor turned over in his bed, trying to fill up the space a little more. He rests his cheek over his hand, feeling the smoothness of the ring in the dark.

He can’t wait to hold Yuuri’s hand again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I think Victor's train of thought looks like when he skates, although I was really tempted to just write like "4T-3T, 3A, CCoSp" lol. Honestly I don't think the whole training alongside your competitor-cum-student idea will work very well but eh.  
> If you recognised the song for Viktor's free skate, a representation of Yuuri's poise and grace in both his skating and ballet then please forgive me hahahah
> 
> Suggestions are warmly welcomed, please feel free to correct me on any grammar mistakes if you spot them. Thanks for reading!


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